Chapter 228 The Painter's Encounter

New York is not under the jurisdiction of the Gospel of Heaven.

N27 area.

Four hours after the terrorist attack.

The bounty was increased to an unbelievable level after the arrest warrant was issued, but the armed forces and the police never found any clues.

Now the whole city knows someone slapped the board in the face and walked away, but most people don't think it will escalate to any significant extent. Especially in these gray areas—where the security has always been terrible, with thousands of violent criminals, hearing negative news or reports of poor safety is perfectly normal. Besides, Heaven's Gospel has quite a few enemies, though not countless, but anyone who climbs to that position has blood on their hands.

Under such rule, most people felt that the authorities would eventually just give any old, mangled corpse as an explanation—it didn't matter if it was real or fake, as long as it satisfied the public's doubts.

The only unlucky ones were the planning team of "The History of Humanity's Blood and Tears." They spent a lot of money to produce this film, and even lost several stuntmen because of it. As a result, the release date was delayed, and the entire directing team was in a state of collective lament.

The topic was discussed online for a while—mostly about how long it would take to form a new team after the business building collapsed, and what differences it would bring—before it was quickly forgotten. Please, this is a happy place; even if someone dies occasionally, it won't cause too much of a stir. Enjoying life with the crowd is the most important thing.

At 1 p.m. that day, the two men walked into the doors of “Lullaby,” the largest art exhibition in the N27 district. Yes, in a place rife with drugs and arms dealing, someone had opened an exhibition that was completely out of step with the local culture, and no one dared to cause trouble—mainly because they didn’t dare.

In the N27 district, even if you're high on drugs in the street and get a quickie, no one will be surprised. It's a place where normalcy doesn't apply. But if you hold an art exhibition, do charity work, or try to improve your personal qualities here, the locals will most likely just think you're an idiot.

But if the people who cause those things are far more ruthless than those villains, then that's a different story.

There weren't too many people at the exhibition, and the two tourists didn't attract anyone's attention at first. The security personnel on site were all gangsters, and they knew at first glance that these two idiots were just there to kill time. After they signed a registration form, they went outside to smoke.

But just half an hour later, someone in the monitoring room of the venue noticed them.

“Ms. Schert, I think… you’d better keep an eye on these two gentlemen.” A bespectacled monitoring staff member, whose face looked like he had just woken up from a hangover, said this while switching the surveillance footage recorded on the terminal to the holographic screen.

Upon hearing his words, the woman named Schert immediately put down the puppy button she was fiddling with, stood up from her beanbag chair, and walked over.

Scheldt is one of the operators and maintainers of "Lullaby". She has a figure as perfect as a porn star, but she looks... extremely deformed. Her head looks like it was cut into five or six pieces with an awl and then pieced back together in a very unprofessional way. The entire surface of her skull is covered with sutures and scars.

Outsiders who see her for the first time will marvel that something extremely bloody must have happened in her life, and that she survived must be due to an indescribable willpower.

However—beneath her ravaged body lie modified mechanical organs and devastating laser weapons. She herself is also an extremely skilled mercenary. Without a doubt, she could easily take on a whole company of them.

"Is that the idiot who was spewing filth at 'Lady in the Rain'?" Scheldt opened a pack of gum, stared at the screen for a while, and then locked onto Merlink.

"From the start of the show until now, thirty-four minutes have passed. They have looked at each of the exhibited works in turn and given comments that are very much in line with the boss's style. The guy next to him who looks like a reporter has been taking notes on these comments in his notebook the whole time."

"From an artistic point of view, it can be said to be of a very high standard, but from a commercial point of view... it's a bit out of line."

"They can tell that the paints and canvases we use are made from materials taken from people."

Almost simultaneously, the monitoring staff gave her the information she needed.

"What feedback did those idiots on the board send to investigate? What feedback did the terminal testing system give?" Schulte asked again.

“Absolutely not.” The monitoring staff shook their heads, paused, and continued, “In fact, their identities are just gibberish in the database. I can’t find anything wrong with them either, but I feel that these two guys are not just here to see the exhibition.”

"Is blocking the program useless?"

"It's no use. There's probably a hacker with incredibly advanced skills behind those two," the monitoring staff replied. "This is defense code that we borrowed from Heaven's Gospel, but it's completely ineffective."

Upon hearing this, Schert hissed, then pulled out a piece of chewing gum and put it in his mouth.

"I understand. You stay here and keep watch. Leave the rest to me."

After saying that, she walked straight out of the monitoring room.

...

...

Fifteen minutes later, in a room on the B2 floor of the "Lullaby" art exhibition.

Just now, Schert pushed a cart full of fine wine, hallucinogens, and fresh steaks into the hall and very politely and gently invited the two of them here.

Ultimately, it's an industry that operates in the gray area. Like the unwritten rules within casinos, Schulte would invite some "unknown" and "unreliable" guests to dark rooms like this one, where he would torture them with laser weapons until they cried out in despair, revealed their origins, and swore they would never come to the N27 district again.

These are the rules set by the boss. Nobody objects, and nobody wants to. Anyone who dared to protest would have been ground to dust and thrown into a dye vat long ago. Besides, this isn't some playground for respectable people. Dude, be realistic. Don't you realize what kind of people can hold an art exhibition in N27?

Of course, Schert wasn't the kind of person who would indiscriminately kill innocent people without any moral compass. After all, she only had a knife, and who that knife stabbed was entirely up to the person wielding it.

"Well... you two probably know why I invited you here."

After locking the keypad door, Schert chewed gum and stared at Merlink and Carlos with a face that resembled a monster from a horror movie, and said in a deep voice, "Or rather, do I need to explain something?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

Carlos uses elegant language from the moment he opens his mouth.